THE    LOST    DRYAD 


FRANK  R.  STOCKTON 


UN 


CALIFORNIA 


f 


J 


\ 


THE   LOST  DRYAD 


ONE    THOUSAND    COPIES    OF    THIS    BOOK    HAVE    BEEN    PRINTED 

AT  HILLACRE    FOR    THE    UNITED  WORKERS  OF    GREENWICH 

EASTERN    BRANCH,    INCORPORATED. 


GST  DR 


>^x 


THE    UWH'L 

. 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


BY 


FRANK  R.  STOCKTON 


PRINTED    AT    HILLACRE 

FOR     THE     EASTERN    BRANCH    OF 

THE    UNITED    WORKERS    OF     GREENWICH 

RIVERSIDE,     CONN. 

I9IZ 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


Copyright,  1911,  by  The  Curtis  Publishing  Co. 
Copyright,  1912,  by  The  United  Workers  of  Greenwich. 


IN    EXPLANATION 

DOZEN  YEARS  ago, 
when  every  one  was  still 
reading  Rudder  Grange 
and  The  Merry  Chanter, 
Frank  R.  Stockton  asked 
Mrs.  Frederick  Gott- 
hold  which  of  his  stories  she  liked  best. 
Her  choice  of  the  fairy  tale,  Old  Pipes 
and  The  Dryad,  pleased  him.  The 
fanciful  stories  he  wrote  for  children 
were  very  near  to  his  own  heart. 

Some    time    after  this,  when  the 

publishers  were  preparing  a  new  edition 

of  Stockton,  Mrs.  Gotthold  persuaded 

them  to  have  printed  for  her  a  copy  of 

5 


IN    EXPLANATION 


Old  Pipes,  each  page  on  a  leaf  of  vel 
lum.  This  she  illuminated  and  decor 
ated,  bound  it  in  leather  and  sent  it  to 
Mr.  Stockton. 

One  day  Mrs.  Gotthold's  mail 
contained  a  parcel.  Being  opened, 
this  proved  to  be  a  small  leather-bound 
book  of  neatest  manuscript,  bearing  on 
the  inside  cover  this  inscription : 

To  Mrs.  Florence  W.  Gotthold,  this  little  story  — 
which  was  written  for  her,  and  of  which  there  is  no  other 
copy  —  is  gratefully  presented  by 

FRANK  R.  STOCKTON 
Claymont,  Nov.  3,  1901. 
Transcribed  by  E.  W.  Tuttle. 

A  title-page,  also  in  Mr.  Stockton's 
handwriting,  read : 

The  |  Lost  Dryad  |  By  |  Frank  R.  Stockton  |  Only 
Copy.  |  Claymont  |  Charles  Town,  W.  Va.  [1901 

The  book  consisted  of  twenty  pages 
written  by  Mr.  Stockton's  sister-in-law 
from  his  dictation. 

Ten    years      have     passed.      Mr. 
Stockton  died  in  April,    1902.     None 
6 


IN  EXPLANATION 


of  his  immediate  family  remain.  The 
friend  for  whom  he  dictated  this 
quaint  little  tale  has  regretted  that  her 
pleasure  in  it  was  not  being  shared  by 
others.  Her  interest  in  the  Eastern 
Branch  of  The  United  Workers  of 
Greenwich,  Connecticut,  has  prompted 
her  now  to  give  the  story  to  them  for 
publication.  The  magazine  rights 
were  sold  to  the  Curtis  Publishing 
Company.  The  money  thus  obtained 
has  been  expended  in  producing  this 
edition  of  one  thousand  copies  —  the 
first  edition  of  one  of  the  last  tales  of 
America's  well-loved  story-teller. 

The  proceeds  from  the  sale  of  this 
book  will  go  into  the  construction  of  a 
children's  club-house  and  playground 
in  a  very  poor  little  village,  where 
some  of  the  little  ones  wander  through 
childhood  almost  as  forlornly  as  the 
Lost  Dryad  bereft  of  her  oak-tree.  To 
prolong  the  youth  and  bring  joy  to  the 
lives  of  these  children  is  the  purpose  of 
7 


IN  EXPLANATION 


this    publication    of   the   troubles  and 
adventures  of  The  Lost  Dryad. 


COS  COB,  CONNECTICUT, 
1  THANKSGIVING  DAY,   1911. 


THE  LOST  DRYAD. 


HERE  was  once  a  dryad 
who  was  truly  lost.  The 
summer  was  drawing  to 
a  close;  the  nights  were 
becoming  cool,  she  had 
no  home,  and  she  did 
not  know  where  she  was. 

Not  long  before,  while  she  was 
still  in  her  oak  tree,  there  had  been  a 
terrible  storm ;  the  tree  had  been  dashed 
to  the  ground  and  splintered  to  pieces, 
while  the  poor  dryad  had  been  blown 
away,  and  away,  and  away,  she  did  not 
know  where.  Now  she  was  looking 
for  another  oak  tree  to  live  in,  but  she 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


was  lost,  absolutely  lost.  One  tree  she 
found,  which  she  thought  might  shelter 
her,  but  when  she  examined  it  she 
found  that  it  was  getting  old  and  its 
trunk  was  badly  cracked.  After  her 
terrible  experience  she  was  afraid  to  go 
into  a  cracked  tree,  and  so  she  kept  on 
her  way. 

At  a  little  distance,  she  saw  a 
village,  shaded  by  trees,  and  the  thought 
came  to  her  that  she  might  possibly 
find  a  home  in  a  big  oak  there.  That 
would  be  fine,  truly.  She  had  never 
lived  in  a  village,  it  would  be  a  new 
experience. 

So  she  kept  on,  but  when  she  reach 
ed  the  place  she  found  that  few  of  the 
trees  were  oaks,  and  these  were  not 
very  well  grown  and  too  small  for  her. 
It  was  nearly  supper-time  in  the  village 
and,  therefore,  there  were  not  many 
people  in  the  street,  but  presently  she 
met  a  big  man  with  a  cross  face. 

"Oho!   Oho!"    he    cried,    "who 

10 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


are  you  ?     You  cannot    go    about  the 
street  like  that!" 

The  poor  dryad  was  terribly 
frightened.  "Like  what?"  she  asked. 

"You  must  go  home  and  dress," 
he  said. 

"I  am  dressed,"  said  she;  "these 
are  all  the  clothes  I  ever  wear." 

" Do  you  call  these  clothes?"  he 
said.  "  Come  along  with  me !  I  am 
a  constable.  I  will  take  you  to  the 
lock-up.  You  must  be  crazy !  But 
they  will  take  care  of  you  there  and, 
at  any  rate,  will  dress  you  properly. " 

The  poor  dryad  trembled  from 
head  to  foot.  She  did  not  know  what 
a  lock-up  was,  but  she  knew  it  must  be 
a  terrible  place,  and  she  had  never  seen 
anyone  look  so  cruel  as  this  man.  He 
had  already  seized  her  by  the  arm,  and 
if  his  grasp  should  become  tighter,  she 
believed  her  arm  would  break  in  two. 
Poor,  weak,  beautiful  dryad !  What 
could  she  do? 

ii 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


HE  thought  of  something. 
It  was  her  only  hope! 
It  must  be  remembered 
that  there  is  a  peculiar 
property  pertaining  to 
the  kiss  of  a  dryad. 
Whenever  a  dryad  kisses  a  human  be 
ing,  that  person  becomes  ten  years  young 
er.  So  all  good  mothers  are  very  careful 
to  keep  their  children  away  from  large 
oak  trees.  If  a  girl,  of  a  dozen  years, 
were  to  sit  in  the  shade  of  one  of  these 
trees,  she  might  attract  the  attention  of  an 
affectionate  tree  dweller;  and  then,  if  this 
dryad  should  kiss  her,  the  little  toddler 
of  two  years  might  go  home  —  if  per 
chance,  she  remembered  where  she  lived 
—  and  astound  her  parents.  But  if  a 
child  who  was  not  yet  ten  should  be 
kissed,  it  would  disappear  utterly. 

The  dryad  remembered  her  rare 
gift,  as  she  looked  up  tearfully  into  the 
stern  face  of  the  constable. 

"Please,  sir/'  she  said,  "don't  take 

12 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


me  away  ;  I  shall  be  frightened  to  death 
if  you  do.  I  have  something  to  tell  you, 
but  only  you  must  hear  it.  Please  let 
me  whisper  it  to  you/' 

The  constable  looked  at  her.  He 
was  fond  of  hearing  secrets,  and  it  was 
quite  proper  that  people  should  confide 
in  him.  So  he  bent  down  his  head  to 
hear  what  the  dryad  had  to  say.  In  a 
moment  she  kissed  him  twice,  and,  be 
fore  he  had  time  to  notice  the  change, 
he  was  a  man  of  thirty  years  of  age, 
vigorous  and  handsome.  He  released 
his  grasp  upon  her  arm  and  stood  up, 
straight  and  tall. 

"Oho!"  he  cried,  "and  who  are 
you?" 

"Put  down  your  head,"  said  the 
dryad,  "and  let  me  tell  you."  Then 
she  gave  him  two  more  kisses. 

Now  there  stood  before  her  a  boy 
of  ten,  very  much  troubled. 

"I  don't  know  what  is  the  matter 
with  my  clothes,"  said  he,  "my  breeches 
'3 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


are  all  down  about  my  feet.  They  are 
like  an  old  man's  trousers.  And  my  shoes 
and  stockings !  Where  did  I  get  such  big 
shoes  and  stockings?  And  this  great 
jerkin,  it  is  too  big  for  me.  I  am  go 
ing  to  throw  it  off." 

"That  is  right,  little  boy,"  said  the 
dryad,  "throw  it  off,  and  pull  off  those 
shoes  and  stockings;  you  can  walk  a 
great  deal  better  in  your  bare  feet.  You 
must  have  been  asleep  and  in  a  dream 
you  put  on  your  father's  clothes.0 

"I  expect  that  was  it,"  said  he,  "it 
must  have  been  that." 

"Now  run  along  home,  little  boy," 
said  the  dryad,  "and  carry  carefully  your 
father's  jerkin  and  his  shoes  and  stock 
ings.  Perhaps  if  you  put  them  where 
you  found  them,  he  may  never  know. 
Now  run  along!" 

And  the  little  boy  ran  along. 

The  dryad  was  now  alone,  but  she 
was  still  frightened.  She  was  sure  there 
were  no  trees  here  which  would  suit 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


her  and  she  was  afraid  of  meeting  some 
other  cruel  person,  so  she  slipped  into  a 
side  street,  and  there  she  saw  a  light 
coming  through  a  glass  door.  This  was 
the  only  light  in  the  street  and  she 
went  up  to  it  and  looked  in. 


NSIDE  was  a  small  room, 
not  very  well  furnished, 
and  by  a  table,  with  a 
light  on  it,  there  sat  a 
girl,  trimming  a  hat. 
The  dryad  smiled  with 
pleasure;  she  was  not  afraid  of  a  girl, 
especially  one  who  was  so  pretty,  and 
looked  so  gentle.  Perhaps  she  might 
tell  her  where  there  was  a  good  oak  tree ; 
so  she  opened  the  door,  without  making 
any  noise,  and  stepped  in. 

At  first  the  girl  was  startled  and 
dropped  the  hat  she  was  trimming,  but 
when  the  dryad  quickly  told  her  who 
'5 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


she  was  and  what  a  sad  plight  she 
was  in,  she  was  reassured.  She  had 
heard  of  dryads  and  was  glad  to  see  one. 

"But  you  must  remember  this," 
she  exclaimed,  "on  no  account  must  you 
kiss  me.  I  am  engaged  to  be  married 
and  I  would  not  have  you  kiss  me,  for 
the  world/' 

"Oh,  no!  no!  no!"  said  the  dryad, 
"no  matter  how  good  you  are  to  me,  I 
shall  be  very  careful.  Andean  you  tell 
me  where  there  is  a  large  oak  tree?" 

"I  do  not  remember  any,"  said  the 
girl,  "but  I  expect  you  sorely  need  one 
for  you  must  feel  cold  in  the  evening." 

"Oh,  no!"  said  the  dryad,  "I  am 
not  cold.  But  what  a  beautiful  hat  you 
are  making!  Such  lovely  silk  and  lace 
you  are  putting  on  it!" 

"Yes,"  said  the  girl,  holding  up  the 
hat  before  the  lamp,  "I  am  trying  to 
make  it  pretty,  but  this  silk  is  tarnished; 
it  has  lost  a  good  deal  of  its  color.  My 
stepmother  thinks  it  is  good  enough  for 
16 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


me  and  so  I  must  do  the  best  lean  with  it." 

"Poor  girl!"  said  the  dryad,  "she 
ought  to  give  you  the  nicest  stuffs  there 
are  in  the  village,  you  are  so  pretty." 
And,  moved  by  pity  and  affection,  she 
was  about  to  give  the  girl  a  kiss  of 
sympathy,  but  remembering  just  in  time 
that  that  would  never  do,  she  kissed  the 
hat.  Instantly  the  silk  and  the  lace  were 
as  bright  and  new  as  if  they  had  just 
come  out  of  the  shop.  The  dryad  ex 
claimed  with  delight. 

"Look!  look!"  she  cried,  "did you 
ever  see  more  charming  colors?" 

The  girl  had  never  seen  more 
charmingcolors,  but  her  countenance  fell. 

"They  are  very  pretty,"  she  said, 
"but  what  an  old-fashioned  hat!  It 
looks  like  one  of  those  hats  people  used 
to  wear  ten  years  ago." 

Now  the  poor  dryad  was  greatly 
troubled.  "Have  I  spoiled  it?"  she  said. 
"Oh!  I  shall  be  too  sorry  if  I  have  done 
that." 

17 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


The  girl  turned  the  hat  around  and 
looked  at  it  on  every  side. 

"Of  course,  I  could  not  wear  it  as 
it  is,"  she  said,  "but  I  am  sure  I  can  alter  it. 
Yes,  I  can  change  the  shape  and  then, 
with  these  new  trimmings,  it  will  be 
perfectly  lovely.  I  thank  you  ever  so 
much.  But  please  do  not  come  any 
nearer;  you  might  forget  yourself." 

"And  you  are  going  to  be  married  ?" 
asked  the  dryad. 

"Yes,  truly,  if  I  can,"  said  the  girl, 
"but  my  step-mother  does  not  wish  it ; 
she  wants  me  to  stay  here  and  work  for 
her.  But  I  shall  be  patient  and,  in  the 
meantime,  I  am  so  glad  that  he  will  see 
me  in  my  new  hat." 

"And  is  your  step-mother  so  very 
cross?"  asked  the  dryad. 

"Oh,  very !  If  she  were  at  home  I 
could  not  let  you  stay  here,  and  as  I  ex 
pect  her  to  come  back  shortly,  I  am 
afraid  —  " 

The  poor  dryad  clasped  her  hands. 

18 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


"You  do  not  mean/1  she  said,  "that  I 
must  go  away?  I  hoped  that  I  might 
stay  here  until  the  people  of  the  village 
were  all  in  bed." 

"I  am  very  sorry/'  said  the  girl, 
"but  really,  if  my  step-mother  should 
come  back  and  see  you  here  I  don't 
know  what  would  happen ;  but  I  will 
tell  you  what  I  will  do:  I  will  lend  you 
one  of  my  frocks  and  a  cape,  and  you  can 
put  on  my  sun-bonnet ;  then  you  can  go 
out  and  look  for  a  tree  and  people  will 
not  be  apt  to  notice  you,  and  if  you  will 
come  back  after  a  while,  when  my  step 
mother  has  gone  to  bed,  I  will  go  out 
with  you  and  help  you  to  find  a  tree  if 
you  have  not  found  one.  Oh,  now  please 
don't !  People  can  be  very  grateful  with 
out  kissing,  you  know,  and  I  will  bring 
you  the  clothes  in  a  minute." 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


HEN  the  dryad  had  put 
on  the  frock  and  the 
little  cape  and  the  sun- 
bonnet,  she  looked  very 
much  like  an  ordinary 
person,  and  when  she 
went  out  on  the  street  nobody  noticed 
her,  for  there  were  girls  in  that  village 
who  were  so  poor  that  they  were 
obliged  to  go  barefooted. 

This  lost  dryad  had  no  very  good 
idea  of  time  and,  after  she  had  walked 
about  the  streets,  and  even  a  little  way 
into  the  country,  looking  for  a  tree  and 
finding  none,  she  thought  that  the  cruel 
step-mother  must  surely  have  gone  to 
bed,  and  so  she  went  back  to  the  house 
of  her  friend  the  girl,  and  opening  the 
door  she  slipped  in.  There  she  saw  the 
cruel  step-mother  scolding  the  girl.  As 
she  entered,  the  step-mother  stopped 
short  in  her  scolding,  and  the  poor  girl 
looked  as  if  she  was  about  to  faint. 

"Heigho!"  cried  the  woman,  "and 

20 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


who  is  this?  How  dare  you  come  in 
without  knocking  ?  What !  Where  did 
you  get  that  sun-bonnet?  You  wretched 
creature !"  she  cried,  addressing  her  step 
daughter,  "what  does  this  mean  ?  And 
your  cape  and  your  frock  ?"  And  without 
waiting  for  an  answer  she  stepped  up  to 
the  dryad. 

"Take  that  off  this  minute,  whoever 
you  are!"  she  cried,  and  as  she  said  this 
she  grasped  the  sun-bonnet  and  pulled 
it  from  the  dryad's  head. 

The  girl  almost  fainted  and  sank 
into  a  chair,  while  the  poor  dryad,  near 
ly  scared  out  of  her  wits,  had  barely 
sense  enough  left  to  throw  her  arms 
around  the  step-mother's  neck  and  give 
her  four  kisses,  as  quick  as  lightning. 

The  next  day  was  the  step-mother's 
birthday,  and  she  intended  to  celebrate 
the  occasion  by  inviting  some  of  her  old 
cronies  to  sup  with  her ;  but  now  there 
was  a  little  girl  standing  on  the  floor, 
beginning  to  cry.  The  dryad  clapped 


21 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


her  hands  with  delight. 

"So  many  clothes/*  she  exclaimed, 
"and  such  a  dear  little  body  in  the 
middle  of  them  all!" 

The  girl  with  the  hat  cried  out, 
"Oh,  what  have  you  done !"  But,  in  spite 
of  her  consternation,  she  could  not  help 
laughing. 

"She  does  look  funny,"  said  she. 
There  was  such  a  difference  between 
the  little  child  and  the  cross  step-mother, 
that  it  was  impossible  for  any  one  to  be 
really  sorry. 

"How  queer  it  is!"  said  the  dryad. 
"She  knows  nothing  at  all  of  the  life 
she  has  lived." 

"Of  course  not,"  said  the  girl,  "she 
could  not  look  back  on  her  future,  you 
know." 

"I  want  to  go  to  bed,"  said  the  little 
one,  rubbing  her  eyes,  "and  please  take 
these  things  off." 

"That  is  what  we  must  do,"  cried 
the  dryad,  "we  must  undress  her  and 


22 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


put  her  to  bed." 

"No,  let  me  do  it  alone,  you 
might  forget,"  said  the  girl. 

So  the  little  child  was  put  to  bed 
in  the  back  room  and,  in  a  moment, 
was  asleep. 

"Now  I  need  not  go  away,"  cried 
the  dryad. 

"No,  indeed,"  said  the  girl,  "I 
should  be  afraid  to  be  left  alone  with 
that  little  thing  who  was  my  step 
mother." 


HE  dryad  threw  aside  the 
uncomfortable  gown  and 
cape,  and  her  face 
sparkled  with  delight ; 
she  was  so  glad  that  she 
need  not  go  away  and 
was  so  happy  at  what  she  had  done. 

"Now,"  said  she  to  the  girl,  "you 
can  be  married,  and  you  two   can  take 
care  of  the  little  girl." 
23 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


"Yes,  I  can  be  married,"  said  the 
other,  "but  not  immediately,  and  in  the 
meantime  I  must  support  this  little  child 
and  myself.  I  have  no  money  and  how 
am  I  going  to  do  that?" 

"Oh,  I  wish  I  could  help  you," 
cried  the  dryad.  "Could  not  I  live  here 
until  you  are  married?  I  really  ought 
to  do  something  for  you,  and  I  will 
never  kiss  you  or  the  child." 

"But  how  could  you  help  me?" 
said  the  girl,  smiling. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  the  dryad, 
reflecting,  "perhaps  there  are  some 
people  in  the  village  who  would  like  to 
be  younger." 

"Yes,"  said  the  girl,  "that  might  do. 
We  could  live  here  together  and  set  up 
a  kisserie.  It  will  be  very  pleasant  for 
me  to  have  everything  my  own  way 
and  not  to  be  scolded,  and  I  shall  take  the 
best  possible  care  of  the  child.  I  know 
there  are  people  who  would  like  to  be 
kissed,  but  you  will  have  to  be  very, 
24 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


very  careful  not  to  make  mistakes." 

"Oh,  I  will  do  that!"  cried  the 
dryad,  "I  promise  you,  that,  from  this 
moment,  I  will  never  kiss  anybody,  old 
or  young,  unless  you  tell  me  to." 


|T  this  moment,  there 
was  a  sound  of  hurrying 
feet  outside.  The  door 
was  thrown  open  and  an 
excited  group  of  men 
and  women  rushed  into 
the  room. 

"A  dreadful  thing  has  happened," 
cried  one  of  the  women;  "the  constable, 
Johann  Milder,  has  disappeared.  He 
left  his  clothes  behind  him.  Stranger 
yet,  there  is  a  little  boy  at  his  house 
who  says  he  lives  there,  and  who  he  is 
and  where  he  came  from  nobody  knows. 
We  have  come  to  see  your  step-mother; 
she  is  a  wise  woman  and  perhaps  she 
may  help  us.  Where  is  she  ?  Call  her 
25 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


quickly!" 

"She  is  here,"  said  the  girl,  and 
stepping  to  the  bed,  she  turned  down 
the  covering. 

Then  all  the  people  pushed  into 
the  back  room  and  when  they  saw  the 
sleeping  child,  two  women  fainted,  just 
where  they  stood.  The  others  were  so 
much  astounded  that  not  one  of  them 
could  speak  a  word.  Then  the  dryad, 
who,  so  far,  had  not  been  noticed, 
laughed  out  merrily.  It  was  all  so 
funny  that  she  could  not  help  it. 

At  this  the  people  turned  and 
stared  at  her.  There  were  some  among 
them  who  had  seen  dryads  and  they  set 
up  a  great  shout. 

"A  dryad!"  they  cried,  "a  wick 
ed  spirit,  a  tree  witch !  She  has  done 
this !  She  has  been  about  with  her  sin 
ful  kisses." 

With  one  accord  the  villagers 
dashed  at  the  dryad  as  if  they  would 
pound  her  into  pieces  and  trample  them 
26 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


upon  the  floor. 

But  the  dryad  was  in  the  door  way, 
between  the  two  rooms,  and  she  moved 
so  quickly  that  they  could  not  touch 
her.  Had  she  felt  free  to  do  as  she 
pleased,  she  might  have  rushed  in 
among  them  and,  in  a  very  few  minutes, 
have  made  a  kindergarten  of  the  whole 
company,  but  she  had  promised  her 
dear  friend,  the  girl,  that,  without  her 
permission,  she  would  never  kiss  any 
body,  and  she  could  not  break  her 
word.  So  she  fled  through  the  open  door 
and  away,  and  away,  and  away,  until 
she  was  far  from  the  village. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  dryad 
came  to  the  great  oak  which  was  old 
and  whose  trunk  was  cracked. 

"Ah!"  she  cried,  "here  is  this  tree 
which  I  would  not  enter,  but  I  shall 
not  despise  it  again.  It  will  shelter  me, 
for  a  time,  and  I  must  no  longer  remain 
out  in  this  cruel  world/* 

So  she  slipped  into  the  oak,  and 
27 


THE  LOST  DRYAD 


was  so  glad  to  feel  herself  safe  that  she 
kissed  the  inside  of  the  tree,  over  and 
over  again,  telling  it  how  thankful  she 
was  to  have  its  protection,  and  to  feel 
again  as  if  she  was  at  home. 


1T  was  not  long  before 
the  aged  oak  was  a  hun 
dred  years  younger  ; 
strong,  vigorous,  clad  in 
the  brightest  green  and 
able  to  withstand  the 
fiercest  storm. 

Now,  when  the  villagers  knew 
what  had  happened,  they  thought  it 
quite  right  that  the  girl  should  marry 
and  take  care  of  the  child  who  had  been 
her  step-mother,  and  when  the  boy  who 
had  been  the  constable  grew  up,  he 
married  this  child,  and  there  was  a  great 
deal  more  happiness  in  that  village  than 
there  would  have  been,  if  the  lost  dry 
ad  had  not  come  to  it,  looking  for  a  tree. 
28 


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* 


LIBRARY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAVIS 

Book  Slip-50m-8,'66(G5530s4)458 


N°  447400 


Stockton,  F.R. 
The  lost  dryad, 


PS2927 
L6 


f 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


» 


